Auxilium Angelus
by Phoenix-LOL
Summary: Madam Fate what a marvelous web you weave…Four years have passed since the night parliament,and V were both destroyed. Evey saves a young girl's life and now lives with her in the Shadow Gallery.What happens when Norsefire returns as well as V? Movieverse
1. Chapter 1

Auxilium Angelus

Chapter One: The Sixth of November

**Summary:****Movie-verse. Madam Fate what a marvelous web you weave…Four years have passed since the night parliament, and V, were both destroyed. Evey saves a young girl's life and now currently lives with her in the Shadow Gallery. What happens when Norsefire tries to regain power, and someone returns from the 'grave'? **

Salve! This is my first _V for Vendetta_ piece of literature, and I'm excited to write and post this. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do. Auxilium Angelus is Latin for guardian angel. Please read and enjoy, R&R if you like, but all flamers will be black-bagged, taken behind the chemical sheds and shot.

Disclaimer: I do not own V for Vendetta, or the characters or places it contains.

Homicidia!

/

The snow fell lightly on the gray pavement, covering the hard stone with a layer of white, cold fluff. The world seemed at peace on this November the 6th, one day after the revolutionary night where fireworks illuminated the sky. Evey remembered the night with a heavy sigh, so much had happened. She had experienced the dawn of a new age of democracy and yet lost her closest friend and lover. Evey shook her head and bit back fresh tears from falling over her already red and puffy eyes.

Oh V… she would miss him terribly, more than he may have ever assumed when he made this plot of his vendetta. She couldn't be comforted by his touch, by his smooth voice and strong words, but Mother Nature seemed to cast small flakes of sympathy upon her thin lashes and peach fuzz of her once long hair. She needed a change of scenery, somewhere she could breathe without seeing his things everywhere, reminders of what he left in her possession to care for.

Evey continued to pace outside the abandoned flat overtop the hidden Gallery. The snow seemed to clear England of its cynical past, wiping the slate clean of any vice or injustice. Evey blinked through the snow, the cold feeling good against her warm skin. Her swerving mind seemed to dispatch as she closed her eyes. The quiet brought back small memories of playing in the snow when she was a little girl. The sweet silence and welcoming cold made the burden on her heart give way slightly, and Evey felt some inner peace.

That moment was quickly shattered as she heard earsplitting gunfire erupt from up the street. Not thinking, she ran to see what had happened, unconsciously aware she may be running to her death. She froze to see a man, fingerman standing in the middle of the street holding a gun. Reacting, she pulled out a dagger she took for V's armory and threw it at break-neck speed, the blade sliced through the frigid air. The metal whizzed, and created an incision in the man's forehead, spotting blood over the white ground. His now limp body flopped down and the gun landed softly indenting the pure surface.

Coming out of her adrenaline rush, Evey finally took notice of her surroundings. There were two men, plus the one she had killed, lying unconscious- no dead in the crimson snow. With any luck, the snow would cover them, and they would never be found. She was about to walk away when she saw movement out of her peripheral vision. Her mocha eyes squinted to see another body, barely covered in a dusting of snow, twist and struggle to get up. Concerned, Evey calmly ran to the figure and brushed off the thin layer of snow now encasing its body.

Instead of finding another policeman, Evey found a girl. She was young, probably around 11 years of age, deathly pale and skinny. She had midnight colored hair, soaked in wetness of the weather. A fast touch of her hand and she felt a faint pulse, informing her that the girl was barely alive. Evey picked up the child with little to no difficulty, she needed to get out of the cold or else she may die of hypothermia. There was no hospital for miles; the woman knew that so she quickly paced back to the long, dark halls of the Shadow Gallery. Ignoring her feelings, she quickly entered her bedroom and placed the cold thing on the messy sheets.

After stripping the articles that covered her body, she dressed the unconscious girl in warmer clothes and placed several spare blankets over her covers. Evey gazed down at the young one with sadness, knowing she'd done all she could. She brushed her bare hand across her forehead, taking her internal temperature as rising slowly but surely. Sighing, she stood from her seat next to her on the bed, and went to grab a throw and pillow for herself. She wasn't going to leave the girl alone, for fear of what may happen if she awoke, so she took a place on the rug beside the bed and rested her eyes.

Evey had to admit that this all seemed strange. She had lost her lover the night before and not even 24 hours later; another figure as, given unknowingly, entered her life, needing her protection. Her eyelids pursed together tighter, making a vow to herself not to lose this stranger to the bullets of the changing world above them. Her mind so stressed eased to sleep. Only then did she finally feel the repercussions of V's death, tears leaking passed her defenses absently.

/

Chapter one isn't as long as I could make it, but I need to set the stage. So now would be the time I ask for feedback. Please tell me what you think, just don't hate to hate. There are ways to tell someone they don't like something without coming out and ruining their day.

Alright, so R&R, no flames, hope you enjoyed. Favorites are excepted as well, so press the marvelous 'Go' button at the bottom left hand of the screen.

Thank you for your time, Vale!

~Phoenix


	2. Chapter 2

Auxilium Angelus

Chapter Two: Vivian Brooke

Summary: Movie-verse. Madam Fate what a marvelous web you weave…Four years have passed since the night parliament, and V, were both destroyed. Evey saves a young girl's life and now currently lives with her in the Shadow Gallery. What happens when Norsefire tries to regain power, and someone returns from the 'grave'?

Lorem iterum! Thank you to all who reviewed; you know who you are ;). For a story I didn't think people would like, I'm pleased with the feedback. So I hope you enjoy this chapter, it is longer I promise. I've made some changes to the first chapter and may repost it. Let's pretend that Evey was so overcome with emotion that her powers of observation may have failed her.

Now, time to learn about our little patient.

**Disclaimer: See first chapter**

**~VESCOR~**

Evey moaned as she sat up on the floor. Her memory swirled when she awoke from her slumber, everything spinning into place. Running her hands over her shaven head, she stood and glanced toward the bed. In it the young girl had awoke and was reading a book; seemingly waiting for her to wake up. Evey had a chance to look at the girl fully now, surprised by how much she had missed.

The girl had medium length dark hair that gleamed like ravens feathers in the faint light of the Shadow Gallery. She was barely graced with puberty, faint traces of breast under the loose silk shirt she was clothed in. Her eyes were the deepest blue Evey had seen in a long time, like two rare sapphire gems. However it was the large area of shriveled, burnt skin that attracted her attention. The patch spread under her chin, across her shoulders and down her neck into the clothing. How could she have missed that?

"Good evening, mademoiselle." The girl greeted in a polite tone, looking up from the worn-out, tan pages.

Evey scrunched her brow, _That's exactly how… _she shook her head to remove the thought.

"Hello, how are you feeling?" She sat beside her, feeling her temperature with her hand.

"I'm fine, still a little shaken from the bitter taste of Mother Nature's wrath." Her arms wrapped around her arms tenderly. "However I suppose I should thank you for saving me from a graver fate."

Evey smiled, "It was the least I could do. I'm sorry I can't take you to a hospital, there are none for a good mile away."

"Hospitals never agreed with me anyhow. The sterility and silence makes it seem like something out of another dimension." The girl touched her cheek, looking around at the large structure of books in the room. "I've never seen so many books before."

"Yes, they all were banned by the government." Evey followed her gaze till it cast down to the page in the girl's grasp. "_Lord of the Flies_, that's an excellent choice."

The girl looked down to the piece of literature in her hands, "Yes, it was my dad's favorite. He used to read it to me every night." A saddened look crossed her face as a frown joined it. Evey saw it and immediately assumed the worst.

"What's your name?" She asked leaning forward ever so slightly. The girl looked up at her, her blue eyes perking up as a sparkle entered them.

"Call me Vivian, Vivian Brooke."

Evey smiled a genuine smile at the girl. She had no idea where she came from or who her family is. _Surely, _she mentally sighed,_ there is no such thing as coincidence._

"It's nice to meet you Vivian. May I ask what you were doing in this part of London?" Evey's tone deepened as the serious issue arose. Vivian adjusted in the sheets uncomfortably, triggering a thick tension to suddenly grow between the two females.

"My family is dead…" Evey almost asked her to repeat her answer, because she spoke it so softly. "Two years ago, my house was set on fire by several drunk and angry fingermen. I was the only one to survive the blaze, since they killed my parents. My older brother escaped while my mother tried to protect me." The snug frame of her arms tightened around her vulnerable body.

"Have you no other place to stay?" A painful shake of the head was her only response.

"I know what it feels like to lose you loved ones to Norsefire." Evey rose to her feet, "You are welcome to stay if you wish."

The gloom vanished as Vivian perked up, "Really? I can stay here?"

"Only if you want to." Evey said those words with apprehension. The last thing she wanted was to force her to stay in the labyrinth of darkness, like the prisoner she once was.

The young girl's eyes peered down to her folded hands, then spoke, "What day is it?"

Evey scrunched her brow, trying to determine the exact date from her memory, "I believe it is November the 5th." The muffled din of the grandfather clock in the telly room rang midnight's arrival.

"Not anymore." Vivian whispered, "I'm 12 years old now, therefore I am somewhat old enough to make my own decisions." Her soft feminine tone rose to its normal level, "I choose to stay."

"Very well, Vivian. Welcome you to your new home, the Shadow Gallery."

**~VESCOR~**

_Ugh, mental note: fire David._

The blonde-haired woman swore in her head as she proceeded down the bleak, tile floors in the corridor. She had admitted the day before she should have woken up earlier, but 5:30 in the morning was a little too much for her.

Jeanette swore in her head as she proceeded down the bleak, tile floors in the corridor. She had admitted the day before she could have woken up earlier, but 5:30 in the morning was a little too much for her.

The blonde-haired woman tried to awaken her half-asleep senses as she moved through the hallway. She banged opened the push double doors to the bustling hospital lobby. People were pushing; yelling her name and rushing around with sick; injured and deranged patients.

With every little issue, she gave an order. That was what her life was really; she ran this small hospital ever since Norsefire came to power. She hated the oppression and was branded a 'rebel'; causing her to vanish into hiding. Now she was one of the heads in the Revolution; as well as the head physician of the Underground, helping others affected and mistreated by Norsefire's brutal regime.

After settling most of the problems, she ran into the creator of her misery; a young teen named David Gists. He was a close friend of hers even though she was much older than him.

"This had better be good, Gists." She strolled into one of the private operation rooms available in the facility.

"Sorry to wake you up doctor Pembrooke, but you won't believe what I discovered." She could tell he was excited; he looked ready to explode with anticipation. He continued, obviously trying to lower his voice and maintain a somewhat professional attitude. "I snuck into the rubble that was once Parliament-"

"I'm a doctor, Gists, not an archeologist. If you are even think about dragging me out on another one of your urban spelunking…"

"I realize that, but I found this." He motioned to the operating table where something close to a human body-shaped lump, that had been covered in a clean medical blanket. Jeanette stared at the silhouette, confusion and curiosity crowding her face at the same time.

"A-a body… in parliament's rubble? David, what have you done? You could have dug up a half-dead MP! What are we supposed to do with it then?"

David released an irritated sigh and walked over to the body. He carefully removed the sheet covering the face, beckoning the lady toward it. When Jeanette was close enough she gasped as she recognized the Guy Fawkes mask.

"Oh my god," she stuttered, "The revolutionary? What would he be doing in the carnage?"

David shrugged, replaced the sheet and turned to face the doctor. "My thought exactly. When I found him he was barely alive, like bordering a conscious and unconscious state."

"Well, I guess that's not important now." She tapped her upper lip, thinking, "He's here now, and we should do our best to see that he remains alive. I think he would have wanted that."

"What do you mean 'we'? I just brought him here-!" David raised his arms in question.

"-And because you did, he's _my _problem?" She growled, "Look, he has to be kept secret. No one must know he's here. I don't want Norsefire breaking down my door again." Dr. Pembrooke returned her gaze to the hero's body, "I'll try to keep him stable. He may live just long enough for us to thank him."

David nodded, looking down at his wrist-watch. "I have to be going. Should I come back and check on him?"

The doctor only shook her head, "No, It's best you forgot all about this. I don't want your life at stake if things take a turn for the worst."

He slid on his coat and said goodbye, walking nonchalantly out of the room. Jeanette removed the sheet up to the man's waist. Retrieving a pair of shears from the tray beside her, she then carefully cut away the burned shirt and vest. Only then did she see how much she had her job cut out for her.

**~VESCOR~ **

A/N: Noticed ~VESCOR~? It's a rough translation in Latin for enjoy.

So I hope you all enjoyed that. I'm really excited to write the next chapter but I can't do it unless I get enough reviews. So send me your comment, questions and concerns, but please no flames, they will be crush in my fury. Thank you all for reading, and favorite at your will.

Vale!


	3. Chapter 3

Auxilium Angelus

Chapter Three: Awakening

A/N: Vale! After much deliberation, I present you, great readers of V for Vendetta fan-fiction, with chapter 3 of Auxilium Angelus. This one was fun to write and we finally catch up with our favorite characters. I didn't expect so many reviews, so I am pleasantly surprised. So please, keep it up! It's people like you all that keep me going!

Since you all have been so patient, I reward with a long chapter; the longest yet!

Now, let's get started, shall we?

Disclaimer: See the summary people, but I do not own anything except for something

**~VESCOR~ **

It was a cool, humid night in London. Evey wished she back inside the Gallery, finishing up her reading of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, rather than cooped up in this tiny area of surveillance van in front of the newly built Parliament building. Four years had passed since the night she welcomed the young woman into the shadows of the hidden world. England had finally had some peace to nurse her aching wounds and the citizens finally could be themselves; true that meant more crime but the reformed government handled the translation of power very well. Evey had joined forces with Parliament 2.0, after declining an offer to become the new Prime Minister. She joined Finch and Dominic as political speakers as well as agents in running Britain's Intelligence Agency. For two years, people enjoyed the bright change of liberty and citizenship.

However, a percentage of people began to complain, unhappy about Parliament's new ways. With this uprising gave an opening toward the FORN party, otherwise known as Norsefire under a new name. Their appearance about a year ago cause uneasiness as well as anger in Parliament, yet options in political candidates were allowed by law; one of the first passed by new MP's. Evey, Eric and Dominic were assigned to keep heavy surveillance on the hazy group.

This was the explanation for her current station outside the new headquarters of London's finest. A gala was held by each party to push their influence upon outside nations. Lately, there had been a rush in the BIA when some anonymous report came in, FORN party leaders were noted meeting with various leaders of a Far East terrorist organization. With a possible security threat, the surveillance was pushed harder and longer, extra attention pointed toward this evening. Their main target was a man by the name of Mr. Richard Derev, an old college friend of the now dead Mr. Creedy. Mr. Derev is a powerful man, the leading candidate for the FORN party, standing a solid 6 feet with graying hair and a deep rasping voice. He was nearing his fifties and currently in the middle of divorcing his second wife. His first marriage ended tragically when his young wife, Nicole, died of murder. There had been rumors claiming Richard as but no evidence could be brought up to file a charge against him. The pitiful thing was the couple had a two year old son, named Nathaniel. Richard married again, an older woman by the name of Celine Crowne. Their union lasted for about 15 years, which is until Celine filed a divorce after suspecting her husband had been cheating on her with several younger women. Nathaniel is now 17, a graduate of Oxford with a bachelor's degree in political science, using his talents to help improve his father's political field.

A plan had been put in motion to try and catch FORN in the act of their 'unpolitical' act. Evey adjusted a small knob controlling the frequency of the radios used to contact her comrades.

"Hammond to Finch, is phase one underway?"

"Phase one, 95% complete, we're waiting for team Delta to report in."

Evey was about to hang up when his voice came back over the wavelength, "Is your agent ready?"

A small smirk spouted on her pink lips as she replied, "My agent is in position, just be ready to move in when the command is given."

Her ears clicked as the line canceled out.

**~VESCOR~**

Richard Alexander Derev always had a way with people. His personality was so appealing, so defined that he could charm his way into anyone's life and get the most interesting details to come out. Due to this natural magnetism, his movement into politics wasn't that difficult. Making a name for himself and a reputation for the FORN party was of most importance to him. That was why he was nominated for party-leader; his determination and resourcefulness.

The gala was turning out so well. So far many political leaders of the middle and Far East seem to side with him and his ideas of a "golden cage". Most likely it was due to the rival of power between countries, but any advantage he could take, he would. Now was the crown gem of the evening, quite literally.

Down the long, luxuriously decorated hallway, hidden behind two lavish oak doors, was the last person he needed on his side to gain enough support for a coup d'etat over the bullocky brutes that stand now in the palace of Westminster. He was so close; victory was inches from his grasp, he could taste it. The only person that stood in his way was a baroness. He would the "privilege" of meeting a rich, highly influential baroness of the now dominating country of Hungary.

Now, in his line of work, Richard knew better than to prejudge anything in his line of work. However, this situation seemed rather straight-forward. He was going to have a bitch of a tine trying to persuade an ancient, pre-historic dinosaur to give in to his theories. Perhaps he may repeat himself a few thousand times if she's hard at hearing. Her dull, lifeless eyes would show no signs and that made his job five-times harder.

Casting a nod to the guard beside the door, he straightened up his black satin tie and tried to ease his grumbling worries. The guard knocked on the door three times and it graciously opened revealing the posh setting of red cushions, gold mirrors and a crystal chandelier. A warm fire crackled in the fireplace; giving a warm, inviting feeling to the parlor. The gentleman entered the room and began to get worried when he didn't immediately see the old woman. A voice called from behind him, and he turned to face the sound. Richard immediately lost his guard as his eyes gazed across the room to stare at the hostess of the voice. Standing in the middle of a large open balcony window, assembled with opaque window pane embedded in silver painted frame, was not an old hag but a young woman of 16. Her body was tin and rather curvy in physique; clothed in a sapphire-blue, floor length, low-cut, princess gown. Her skin was pleasantly pale, almost having an aurora illuminating her body; her thin wrists and neck were bedazzled with sapphires and diamonds. Her long, ebony hair was done up in a smooth bun, a tiara of diamonds shimmering in the rays of moon light that bathed her. However, it was her eyes that really captivated his attention. They were not dull or lifeless at all, oh they were a deep cerulean, rivaling even the hope diamond with their gloss and shine. Of all the women has met, and 'dealt' with seemed to fade in comparison to this girl.

"Mr. Derev," the figure breathed, "Forgive me; I must not have heard you come in."

Her voice was so soft, delicate even, not what he was expecting at all. He soft eyes glanced over toward him, a swift feeling of lust and desire suffocating his thoughts as he struggled to maintain him position.

"It's quite alright," Damn, his voice was hoarse; "I suppose I could have been louder with my presence." He could feel his left hand tremble as he shoved it in his pants pocket, "Shall we sit down?" The baroness lightly smiled and nodded, daintily crossing the room to a small, black roman daybed. Sitting herself down, she coyly patted the cushion rather close to her, a faint smirk arising on her light pink lips. Richard felt his blood run through his veins at a heightened speed as he sat next to the heiress.

He started the usual tirade of pathos, logos and ethos to get some signs of remorse out of the girl although most of the time his thoughts had been interrupted by any moment she would touch her neck, dragging her hand down the bodice of her corset, covering her action claiming the heat of the room bothering her. It took a few times of repetition for his mind to suddenly click into place.

She was flirting with you, you _dimwit_.

"Honestly, Mr. Derev-"

An enlightened smile grew on his face, "Please, call me Richard."

"Richard. I'm not exactly_ excited_ when it comes to politics. It's not my forte, so to speak." The baroness' blue eyes semi-closed in underlying boredom; the slight dusting of silver eye shadow enhancing their natural, sparkling luster as they slid over to look into his own.

The middle-age man, ever so slightly crawled his fingers across his section of cushion to her own, picking up her blue satin gloved hand. Her eyes lit up as he slid the cover off, pressing his lips against her creamy skin. "I'm quite sorry madam, but unfortunately it is my job."

"Is that all you do? Sit around and charm young ladies, like myself, with words of political rivalry and cunning?" Her eyelids batted, showing of their length, "I find that rather hard to believe."

Oh, she would have no idea the battle the man had with his very aroused feelings. The urge to jump the fair maiden, fluttering her dark eyes at him while she spoke, tear of that skin tight, form fitting dress; to kiss and touch her body everywhere. She was so tempting, so divine, so _sexy_…

The battle he unfortunately lost.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he had one hand griping her petite waist, his waist trapping her split legs on the sides of the bed.

"Mr. Derev? What the blazes are you-?" Her eyes were now frazzled, her complexion glowing pink in color, obviously embarrassed. This panic pushed him forward even as the girl pushed him away. His face assaulted her neck, licking and biting the tender flesh that resided there. His hands, pulling down the soft fabric of her corset, tried to remove the blasted cloth away from her smooth breast. Derev traced a path from her neck up to her ears, muttering as he went.

"I'm only satisfying that curiosity of yours, my dear." His voice was huskier as he nibbled at her earlobe. The girl somehow managed to find enough strength to push him off and opened her mouth to scream. Before a word could pass through her mouth, his paw had covered her lips, muffling her cry for help. Her eyes widened in terror as she felt an evil smirk grow on his face, the cloth beginning to slip from her grasp.

"There's no trying to fight." his voice still ragged as he turned the girl around to face him, his eyes flaring with passion. He grabbed her chin, hearing her muffle as he lifted it to force her eyes stare into his own. Slowly, Richard closes his eyes, pulling her chin closer to his lips, desperate to quench the sexual desire now burning into his body.

Instead of bliss, he was greeted with pain. Lots of pain.

He moaned and crumbled to the floor, the tranquilizer still searing in his chest as the world faded to black.

**~VESCOR~**

"Not tonight, Mr. Derev." The baroness smirked as she rose to her feet, the frail portrayal of feminine weakness vanished from her eyes as a strong, confident mural of strength replacing them. The girl reached up and tugged on her golden hair; the artificial strands pulled off to reveal a pelt of midnight blackness. Dropping the wig, the girl reached up and touched the sapphire necklace, pushing a hidden button and spoke to the air around it.

"Agent, reporting in. Is that enough evidence for you, my lady?"

"Yes, Vivian, that more than plenty. Report back at the rendezvous for debriefing." The familiar voice of Evey Hammond crossed the waves as the girl smiled in pride.

"Very well, madam, until our paths cross." Removing the necklace, she dropped it in-between her breast, holding it there for safekeeping. Vivian stopped, looking a down at the elderly man's body, how awkward it appeared and how she was to deal with it. Evey had special instructions not to kill him, but oh she wanted to mess with his mind. He was the type of man who deserved to have been tied by tens of horses and be pulled to shreds. A suspicious smirk grew on her lips as she removed a pair of handcuffs from a small pocket she rigged in the dress.

**~VESCOR~ **

Evey drummed her fingers against the dashboard of the surveillance van, patiently waiting for the familiar shadow to swiftly glide into the back of the secluded van's frosted doors. Of course she knew that it would take some time for her to arrive and she wasn't worried about her safety, Vivian _knew_ how to handle herself. However, Mr. Finch, currently sitting behind the steering wheel, was obviously anxious, his muscles tensing and his lip being gnawed to pieces by his upper teeth.

"What's taking her?" His vision slipped to the rear view window for the fifth time as still no image appeared to his fret.

"Now, Eric, she'll be here any moment. She was raised better than to keep people waiting." He lips curved into a frown as the radio bleeped, alerting the two adults of an incoming message. Mr. Finch picked up the mouth piece and clicked a knob along the side, tuning into the dial as he spoke, "Go ahead."

"Mr. Finch? Team Delta reporting in, we've been alerted that FORN now knows of our presence. We've pulled out mostly all agents." A male voice came over the intercom and Evey felt her heart quicken.

_Oh Vivian… _"We need to get her out of there!" Her harsh whisper escaped her mouth as the look on Eric's face matched her worry.

"Pull all agents out, immediately! I'm not going to let anyone risk their lives, not at this stage." Finch clicked out, throwing the radio on the holder and put the car in gear. Evey threw her hands on top of his, "Wait, she's not here yet."

"The missions been confiscated, we need to pull out!"

"Give her, five minutes Mr. Finch. Five minutes: nothing more, nothing less." Her solid pools of honey brown challenged his decision. Eric thought for a minute before releasing a deep breath.

"Alright. Only five minutes, though."

Evey removed her iron grip from the leather wheel, casting her eyes out the window at the full glowing moon. "That's all she needs."

**~VESCOR~**

Richard pushed his way through the darkness, forcing his heavy eyelids open to the dim artificial light of a table lamp. He moaned, shaking his head in anticipation of dispersing the haze of midnight as the world came back into focus. He tried to cradle his aching head, only to find his hands having difficulty moving. A sense of panic filled him as he struggled against the bonds shackling his hands together behind a pole. He realized he had not left the parlor containing the charming seductress he had desire for. Cursing himself mentally, he strained to see a pair of handcuffs restraining his movement. A small shadow moved in the corner of the room and Mr. Derev had no time to prepare as a figure leaped at him, scaring the bloody nerve out of his already weakened system.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Derev?" The figure stood to her feet, her dazzling ocean eyes causing an epiphany to strike him.

"You…" He muttered against his bonds as the female came into view. Gone was the blue princess gown and replacing it was a more conservative wardrobe. The black silk attire fit her body nicely, not a wrinkle to be seen on her dark shirt, pants and vest. A long cape attached across her neck, casting a gossamer shadow around her thin frame. High heeled leather boots accompanied a black sun hat shading most of her face. However, a sapphire colored mask covered most of her upper face; forehead, around her eyes cutting off the white skin at her cheeks. The only hole existing was the two oval shapes that allowed her portals of blue to shine darkly with now discrete scheming quality that assumed her perfectly.

"What the blood hell do you-?" A leather gloved hand pressed against his lips, stopping his blasphemous from exiting.

"If there is one thing I cannot stand, it is men who can't control themselves." Her voice was deathly cold, wrapped in hatred, as she removed something from her cape. It was a bomb, oh god an actual _bomb_.

She smiled wickedly as it slid easing onto the lapel of his coat, sweat now trickling down his brow, quite visibly. "I wouldn't move if I were you. Explosives and sudden impacts do _not_ go well together." The figure dramatically turned to face the balcony her only way of escape as she moved toward it. She stopped posing her hand on the door frame as she heard her trembling prisoner whisper, "What's your name?"

Half-turning in melodramatic mood, her voice sweetened as she began to speak, "And what good what my name be to you, Sir Hunter?" Twirling around fully, she smirked, "Only a fox, for that is all I shall ever be to you. The vixen that lurks in the shadows of our mind, and just when you think you have me cornered, I always manage to slip away."

Removing her hat, she bowed, "Adieu, Monsieur." Quickly returning the accessory to its proper place, she ran an amazing speed and jumped over the banister and into the night.

**~VESCOR~**

One minute. _Blast it, Vivian where are you?_ Evey now was drumming harder as Finch kept his eyes on the wristwatch attached to his arm. 30 seconds…

A loud thump of top of the vehicle frightened them both off guard as Evey recognized the weight up on the roof. _It's her_.

"Drive!" She yelled as Eric slammed on the accelerator. Smoke flew up the tires as Mr. Finch burned asphalt, out of sight. The back door flings open and in rolls the masked heroine, landing on her feet and hunched over figure, similar to a cat. The door banged closed behind her as if it never opened.

"You were cutting the timing rather close there Vivian. I had to convince Mr. Finch to wait for your arrival." Evey smiled as the van hit a wet curve, skittering on the road. Vivian smile back, "Forgive your enemies, but first get even.*" She smirked toward the driver who shook his head, "I must find better things to do on my Thursday evenings."

The loud chimes of the newly constructed Big Ben rang throughout London. With the curfew lifted, more people enjoyed the nights roaming the cities clubs and streets. A rather large gathering had joined in a large park a few meters from Westminster palace, lighting off fireworks with great delight. Finch pulled the van up to the curve, relaxing to the sounds of children laughing and artificial lights illuminating the sky. "That reminds me," Evey shifted in her leather seat, turning her head to face the girl in the back area of the car, "Happy 16th birthday darling."

To this Vivian only smiled, casting her blue eyes out the windows and up at the full moon above them.

**~VESCOR~**

17 year old Nathaniel Derev sat in his father's office, awaiting the return of his parental guardian through the heavy bolted doors. He had received word that Parliament had tried to sabotage the gala held by the FORN party and their allies that evening. A group of agents snuck their way in and had recorded various conversations' between politicians and terrorists. The worst bulletin of al was to hear his father had been planted with a bomb in the west branch of the building. The device was phony; a simple timer strapped with red painted rods fooled the bomb squad moved in place. It wasn't until the time counted down to hear the sound of England's anthem erupt from a small speaker enclosed in the device. After cutting Mr. Derev loose from his bondage he called the party over early for the safety of the guest as the ball room was searched for any more explosives.

The loud slam of the door caused Nathan to let loose from his thoughts, his tuxedo clad father, tie removed stormed into the room.

"Father, are you alright?" The boy was most concerned with his father's wellbeing. However, the elderly man's red face and simmering glare told him otherwise.

"Who the hell do they think they are?" He slammed his reddened fist at the mahogany desk, making jump from the impact. "Infiltrating the gala, frightening our guests and making us look like unprepared cowards! If I ever get my hands on the bloke responsible…" The heavy breathing was the only sound hearable in the large room. Taking a moment to compose himself once more, he turned to his son, "Nathan, my boy, this is exactly why those snakes shouldn't be in Parliament. They are so desperate, that they ruin the fun and activity of opposing forces. Note this day, this is Parliament's downfall! Get back to your work; I am healthy, if not embarrassed. Call Donavan in here on your way out." He sat down, gathering the papers around him in an effort to look busy. Nathaniel began to leave, not bothering to glance back at his father; it would do him no good anyways.

As soon as the door closed, Richard let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. The press and media would be all over them in the morning. The gala had ended disastrously, that concerned him, but it was the woman who lured him in with her hypnotic charm had troubled him the most. She weighed heavily on this mind, taunting his very existence. He did not know her name, or anything about her. That girl had aroused something within him, something he had not thought he still had. Then she left him, tied and frazzled laughing at his imperfections. He turned his chair and stood walking over to the window he had opened earlier, hoping the cool November air would sooth his nerves. She would pay most of all.

For no one escapes Richard Derev and lives to mock his existence.

**~VESCOR~ **

Jeanette slipped quietly through the white tile hallway, careful not disturb the patients sleeping in the make-shift room around her. It was very late; the day had been rigorous for her. A new installment of patients arrived when a bomb exploded in the more low economy section of London, the economy harshly shaken after Norsefire's brutal yet glorious fall. Although the collapse of the tyrannizing government was welcomed after V's idea revival, it seemed obvious that a fully developed country could not survive without some kind of structure. The people agreed that they would allow Parliament to stand once more as long as they didn't interfere with the rights and laws of the people. Westminster palace was rebuilt to all its stature and the government, with firm shackles from citizens, began to run again. This came in use when it came to forming allies in other countries, like Japan and Australia, even with all the bitter past between the lands. However, with the FORN party growing, ex-rebels are becoming kidnapped or mysteriously vanishing into the night, only to be found a few days later, dead in front of their homes. With news of FORN making peace with Middle Eastern nations like Turkey, Iraq and Saudi Arabia, terrorist attacks on small bombs and fires have been growing. Small, unknown centers like the one she had been running had swelled to capacity in the past four days. This lead the woman doctor to pushing her own physical limits of food and sleep, all to help those innocent to the violence try to return to normal.

Dr. Pembrooke yawned, for what she counted to be the forty-second time that evening alone, and glanced down at the wristwatch wrapped to her arm. The time had barely gracing midnight, as she moved to a desolate hallway and down a series of stairwells to a concealed hospital room. Jeanette had been treating the revolutionary terrorist "Codename: V" for the four year time span. She had managed to stabilize him in a semi-conscious coma during his first year stay, however he had not woken up in three years later, and her hopes of his survival were depleting swiftly. Upon opening the door she was stunned to see the bed, once carrying the non-moving figure of the terrorist, to be empty. It caused a paralyzing moment of fear to enter her brain. Had someone found his body? What if he had awakened? This world was one painful one to suddenly arise too. A heavy push from behind her, shoving her into the cold plaster wall; a sharp knife threateningly close to her neck only caused her fear to grow. Her eyes widened as she tried to hide the terror entering her body from showing. The dark figure lifted its head to reveal a new acrylic Guy Fawkes mask.

Jeanette tried to relax her muscles as she spoke, her tone warm and inviting, "Hello, it's good to see you as well."

**~VESCOR~ **

4,336 words later, I finally update. So, I hope you all liked that. I like to write my stories similar to that of a movie are blocked. Okay, please read and review and favorite. I really do appreciate it, and it urges me to write faster!

VALE!

-Phoenix-LOL


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